


if you’ve never been lost (you won’t ever get found)

by theoreticlove



Series: shameless and painless and perfect and ageless [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Post War of the Ring, Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:42:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23294947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoreticlove/pseuds/theoreticlove
Summary: elrond asks maglor to sailfëanorian week, day two: maglor
Relationships: Elrond Peredhel & Maglor | Makalaurë
Series: shameless and painless and perfect and ageless [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673989
Comments: 3
Kudos: 60





	if you’ve never been lost (you won’t ever get found)

The sand was harsh against his feet, salt encrusted in long, dark hair, gone uncut for an amount of time that Maglor himself could not count. Waves crashed against the shore, the only constant, it seemed, in his endlessly lonely life.

It was what he deserved, probably. 

Not probably. It was. 

It had been years- hundreds, maybe, or thousands (he had long since lost count). But he could still feel the phantom weight of a sword against his hip, and the stain of blood against his hands, begging to be scrubbed off. 

He lived (well, barely, it was more like surviving) quite literally under a rock, a cavern formed over time with pressure and sand. His bed was golden sand, his memories and the waves his only company, and yes, he was lonely, but what was repentance without suffering? 

When he looked out into the waves he could almost picture home. Home, with its bustling markets and soft breezes, unlike the harsh wind that whipped at his face. Home, with his mother, her warm, comforting hugs and reassurances that all was well. 

He could picture it, perhaps, but it was never within his reach. He could not go home. He never would again. 

But at least he could still remember it. He was not so far gone, then. Or was he? He had committed so many wrongs, spilled innocent blood three times over, yet he was still selfish enough to think about home. 

“Maglor!” called a voice, in the distance. Searching for him. “Maglor!” 

Maglor was not sure if it was his imagination, but he could have sworn (but wouldn’t, he wasn’t that stupid) that he had heard the word ‘atar’ in the searching calls. 

Confused, and slightly curious, Maglor stepped out of his hut, pushing salt-white hair out of his face to get a better look. 

The figure, who was on horseback, spotted him immediately, and broke out into a smile. In a second he had dismounted, and was running towards Maglor. 

“Elrond?” Maglor rasped, blinking and unbelieving. 

“I’ve been searching for you for weeks! Finally I’ve found you!” said Elrond, and without another word, Maglor was pulled into a hug. Surely he smelled putrid, but Elrond didn’t seem to mind. 

“You... looked?” asked Maglor, hardly able to get the words out. His one musical voice was coarse after years of being unused. 

“Of course. I’m going to Valinor, and I want you to come with me. I had to find you.” 

“Valinor?” 

“Yes! I sail at long last. Won’t you come with me, Maglor?” 

“I... you’re going... home.”

“Yes, home! Your home. Please say yes. Sail with me, I beg of you. Meet my wife. See your mother again. Come with me.” 

Maglor inhaled sharply, and weighed his options.

He could go home.

He would need to make reparations. He would be hated.

But he would be able to go home. Home, the one place he had thought he would never see again. 

“Will you come?” asked Elrond, hope written all over his face. “Please, atto.” 

Atto. 

Even after all this time, even after Maglor had left him. Elrond still considered him... a father. A father and his son. 

“Yes. Yes, I will sail.” 

Together, they went off, and Maglor, perhaps, healed a little from his greatest hurt.


End file.
